Page 42 of Ignite the Infernos

I spot the six fliers, halfway down the canyon. They’ve split into a three-three formation and are speeding through the rings of rock like their asses are on fire. “Back left is Ever,” I inform Ogdan and Karis, and they both home in on her.

“Anyone else curious as to why she’s riding scrap metal instead of revealing and fleeing on a set of wings as a dragon?” Ogdan wonders.

“You can ask her when we catch her,” I say, my prey drive begging me to resume the chase, while the bond demands that I get to the capturing part of today’s festivities. “You two locked in?”

They both rumble their assent.

“Then let’s go get her.” I angle my wings and drop into a dive.

Wind roars past me as I fall, and I use my tail to guide me into the perfect position for entry into the canyon. It’s only wide enough for one dragon to traverse at a time, and without needing to be told, Karis blasts in front of me, taking the lead, while Ogdan brings up the rear. Rocket-fast, we thread the needle and pass through the first ring into the canyon. The force of our momentum leaves a cloud of dust and falling rubble in our wake.

Like she can feel me coming for her, Ever looks back, and I wait for a thread of alarm to come screaming through the leak in our otherwise barricaded bond, but all I feel is a fluttery anticipation.

Before I can even sound off a warning, blinding lights pulse from each side off the surrounding ridges. We pass them in no time, but as intended, I now have spots in my vision that I hurry to blink away. Massive boulders and other large rocks are suddenly flying toward us. We try to dodge the onslaught without crashing into each other, but the spots in my vision keep me from seeing everything clearly. A rock smashes against my hip, and another hits my back in a one-two combination that fucking hurts despite my thick scales and resilient hide.

We barely have time to recover from the stoning when net cannons go off all around us. The boom of the weapons barely has time to ring out before I fill the ravine with fire, careful to keep my Wing safe from the flames. The nets flying through the air instantly incinerate instead of taking any of us down.

More rocks come flying through the flames, but my vision is back to normal, and I dodge what my fire doesn’t consume. The momentum from our dive slows, and I’m forced to fully extend my wings and start to fly through the tight quarters of the canyon. Something zaps me when the tip of my wing brushes the wall, and a numbing sensation quickly spreads through the appendage.

Ogdan snarls behind me, and I can tell he just experienced the same defensive measure I did. The lack of sensation starts to recede almost as fast as it came on, but I know that the more zaps any of us take, the longer that numbness is going to set in.

“Stay off the walls,” I warn just as some kind of water cannon activates and I’m abruptly pummeled by a deluge. It follows me as I fly by, almost as though it’s manned and being aimed. I look, but I’m moving too fast and there’s too much going on to see if anyone’s operating the mechanism.

I watch Ever, racing to get away from me, but despite the rocks, blinding lights, nets, water, more rocks, wing-numbing walls, exploding cartridges of goo, flying spikes, even more rocks, and a collapsing arch from above, I’m gaining on her.

The rings of the canyon seem to be getting farther apart, as do the attacks trying to slow us down. Past Karis, I notice the rib cage we’re flying through ends and the distance between the surrounding walls grows wider.

“Almost through the worst of it!” Karis declares, knowing the same thing I do. As soon as we’re out of these rings and can really fly and maneuver, Ever and her flier don’t stand a chance. Not unless she reveals and goes head-to-head with us as a dragon, and the others with her do the same.

Out of nowhere, some kind of webbing shoots at Karis, sticking to his wings and face before he can do anything to stop it. He starts to drop and I move to follow, opening my mouth to burn the sticky web off the Thrasher.

“I’ve got him! Go!” Ogdan orders from behind me, and I angle past Karis and fly harder and faster for Ever.

I clear the last ring in the canyon and instantly start to climb. I only need one good dive and I’ll be on her. Out of thin air, three wyverns are suddenly on me. There’s no time to think or plan before I’m rolling and looping in an effort to escape a vicious barrage of teeth and claws. I fight to keep track of Ever, not daring to let the slippery Syphon out of my sight, but the rocks and sand below meld with the light blue sky above as I twist and drop to keep the three wyverns off me. Razor-sharp teeth miss my throat by inches, but my claws shred the membrane of a wing, and I aim a stream of white-hot fire at whoever is swooping in behind me.

Wyvern screams are music to my ears, and my answering roar is absent of mercy and full of vengeful warning. I prepare for another strike, done with playing nice, but a dark blue missile streaks by me, crashing into a clay-red wyvern that’s aiming it’s claws at my face.

Chastain’s snarl sends instant relief through me, and I look over just in time to see Tove barrel into a gold wyvern with wing-breaking force. I roll in search of the third assailant, but Ogdan and Karis clear the final ring of the canyon with a bloodcurdling bellow as they streak right for me.

Knowing they’ll deal with the third fucker who’s about to learn a valuable lesson in not picking fights they can’t win, I focus back on the ground and search for Ever. The fliers have split up, a good plan if they’re trying to confuse us about who to chase, but I’m only after my Syphon. If I catch her, the others with her won’t be far behind.

My heart leaps in my chest when I spot the worn gray and fluorescent-orange riding gear I know she’s wearing.

“Gotchya.”

There’s another flier with her, and they both look like they’re racing for a narrow ravine that splits off to the west. Ever is alone on her flier now. I suspect the other person that was with her is now fighting for their life in the sky behind me, but it doesn’t matter. I’ve got her in my sights, which means this hunt is over.

I dive for her, determined to rip her off the death trap she’s riding and chain her to my side if that’s what it takes to get the answers she owes me once and for all. Ever doesn’t check her six, but the other flier with her does when I swoop in behind them and eat up the miles with a determined glide there’s no escaping from.

She pushes her patched-together cycle faster, but it whines in protest, and a victorious pulse flashes through me. I’m almost on her, and I have to tamp down the urge to reach for her, knowing if I move from my position now, it will only slow me down, and I can’t risk it.

Ever twists in her seat, and I’m so desperate for a glimpse of her face, I don’t immediately register the weapon in her hand. She pulls the trigger, and a net comes spiraling out of the short barrel. It’s not big enough to ground me, but it’s plenty big enough to slap me in the face and slow me down. With an enraged roar, I claw through the net, just in time to see her slip into the ravine behind the other flier. I swoop up and back, looking for a point of entry, but the ravine is too thin for me to fit into.

I expand my wings, forcing myself to slow down and solve the problem. I hover in the air, each forceful flap of my wings coaxing dust into the air. The ravine is filled with black . . . logs maybe? It’s hard to say, but when I drift lower, it definitely looks as though someone has dropped charred trunks throughout the gorge, making it difficult to pass through. I study Ever as she slowly navigates her flier through the debris field. She’s careful not to touch anything, allowing herself to only go at a snail’s pace in some of the more crowded junctures.

I survey the ravine and identify a good spot to pluck her from this laughably slothful escape attempt. Anticipation prods my patience, and I can’t tell if I want time to slow down or speed up as Ever closes in on my ambush spot. She’s ten feet away . . . eight . . . six. She guides her flier over a particularly wide log, and my scales ripple with the need to strike.

Now! I shout at myself and drop like a meteor from the sky. Her helmeted head snaps up, and I swear I can hear a muffled scream when I reach a clawed hand into the ravine to grab her. Only my palm doesn’t wrap around her body—it clutches hot metal and thin leather instead. Everything slows when I look down to see my mate leaping through the air, arms stretched and reaching for the hand of the other flier in front of her.